


twisted and tied

by ShadowAphelion



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Rope Bondage, i dont know how anything works, short drabble based off a doodle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 14:03:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19401817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowAphelion/pseuds/ShadowAphelion
Summary: "So, what should we tie up??!"





	twisted and tied

**Author's Note:**

> *tosses the thirsty willowson fans a bone*

Willow’s sweating as she clutches the ropes in her hands tightly, finally throwing her head back and letting her body arch in release after what felt like ages— ages of lovely torture.

Her arms and legs are bound by a red cord. So are her wrists and ankles. She’s hanging just a couple feet from the ground, nothing a big girl like herself couldn’t handle, and she’s in the flesh, too. Willow used to feel cool as the breeze hit her naked body from every corner— and geez, did she feel exposed— but it was quickly replaced with that nice burning heat she loves so much and a thin layer of sweat. 

Fair skin exposed for all of the room to see, and at the softest end of it was Higgsbury’s mouth, lapping at whatever he could reach, pressed close against her warm folds. She’ll do _anything_ to break free of her binds and grind against him, to wrap her legs over his shoulders and tangle her fingers in his hair, but she can’t. 

Willow is completely under Wilson’s control. It’s his hands that are tugging at her hips at this very second, pulling her closer to him and smothering him. He’s the one who takes advantage of the rope (and its physics) to lightly swing her towards him as he moves against her in a gentle rhythmic motion. 

All she can do is wriggle in place; moan and cry at the delicious feeling of his breath on her sensitive, dripping skin, and hope that he won’t stop when she murmurs for more under her breath to tease her. She can’t handle any more of it. 

“Does it hurt? Are you okay?” He asks again in quick pause, checking on her every so often just in case she wants to stop hanging like a stripped up decoration. His blue eyes are soft and pretty in contrast to the bright crimson of the rope, the color of lust and its misgivings. 

It’s just a tad uncomfortable, and she can’t deny that there’s going to be marks on her body from all the fidgeting, but she doesn’t want it to stop. She likes seeing him come over her, the feeling swelling her chest and making her grip at the rope again. 

“Yes, keep going,” she barely manages to breathe out because once she does he’s inside her again, and the flat of his tongue against her slick bud is driving her insane. She bites her lip at the wobbly feeling she’s getting in the pit of her belly, wanting to be touched. Held.

It’s almost as if Wilson reads her mind, because he tastes her a few more times before shakily going to undo his belt. Her chest is heaving from the action and from the weariness of hanging, but her skin is itching in excitement. He doesn’t tease her at that, at least— she can see that he’s big and throbbing from their fun, so Willow can find solace in knowing she doesn’t have to wait. Her wetness must be dripping all the way down her thighs by now. 

Wilson groans as he pushes into her. “Fuck,” he says under his breath— as if she wouldn’t hear— and it only makes her more turned on. Gentlemen never swear.

He starts rutting against her quickly, taking her hips and looping fingers around the rope there and moving her to meet his penetration. Her wet impatience makes it easier for him to move farther. Willow sees stars. Her legs are already as far enough as they can comfortably go, so there’s room, but she tries to spread them more anyway. It feels so, so good like a house fire— no, _bigger_ — and she wishes she could hold his face in her hands and pull him into a kiss.

Her mouth is left alone, and it has been for some time, so only breathy moans and wails continue to come out of it. No doubt her lips are flushed by now. Especially when Wilson starts to hit a certain spot down there that drives her mind in loops. Her knuckles are bare white from her nonstop grip on the rope and she can’t help but move again, feeling on the edge of another orgasm, letting her back arch once more as she lets the good feeling wash over her body like a wave.

Wilson is still breathing heavily on the opposite end of her. She starts to wonder how long he’ll go (or how long she’ll manage to keep up with their weird play date) when he almost exits her, keeping just the very tip of himself inside her, before slamming her back in. 

A sudden noise exits her throat, surprised by the pleasant feeling of being filled over and over again. Wilson leans down and kisses the spot just below her belly button, his movements slowing as he began to empty into her. She wonders how long he’d been waiting to do that, to crawl into her and sully her, but she doesn’t. 

There aren’t words for the way how good his gentle thrusts feel afterwards. She can feel his seed spill from inside her and litter the floor, but she doesn’t think about it. Only the slow comfortable moving he’s doing to finish them off with.

“That,” Willow sighs, “felt so good.” She leans her head back against one of the ropes, a loopy grin on her face. 

Wilson rubs her sides soothingly, stroking the sore spots of her skin with the flat of his palms. “Want to get out now?”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna hang here all day!” She jokes. 

Wilson carefully unstraps her from her binds until she’s on the ground again in his arms. She rubs at her wrists, sore from all of the shifting, and rests in the comfort that Wilson offers with his arms. “I hope I didn’t hurt you,” he moves a lock of loose hair behind her ear and gives her a kiss. 

She’s still dazed from everything, too sleepy to put on her clothes. “You didn’t. But I think you could’ve gone harder,” Willow whispers the last part to him in a low voice that gets Wilson as red as a fire. Now that she’s free, she has the power to be a tease. 

He gingerly scoops her up in his arms and carries her to the bedroom, Willow resting her head on his chest. “Maybe next time, hm?” Wilson offers.

“And don’t hold back on the ropes either,” Willow pipes back. 


End file.
